And the Red Sox win it!
by damnyankee
Summary: Re: a challenge from someone on Coffee and Pie, I have attempted to match wits with the best of them. And it's great, cause the Red Sox get to win the world series! No spoilers; set in the near future, and mostly fantasy-based


            "Okay, I've got a scalp lac in 2, a sprained ankle in 1, and I need a Psych consult in 5."  Carter looked up, waiting for a response from the group standing in the admit area.  He noticed then that everyone—Susan, Frank, Sam, Chuny and Morris—were watching the TV.   "Hey, like I said—"

            "Ssh!" Susan cut him off, attempting to quiet him without even looking back at him.

            "What?  Why is everyone so tied to the television?"  Unfortunately, this drew no response from anyone.  He looked up at the screen.  "What's the big deal?  It's just baseball."

            Getting no response, he turned to the phone to call upstairs for his Psych consult.  Just then, Abby walked over to him.  He looked up and smiled, and put the phone back in its cradle.

            "Hey."  She stopped next to him, glancing over at the hypnotic crowd, who were randomly emitting cheers.  "What's everyone watching?"  

            "I don't know; a baseball game, I guess."  He touched her arm gently.  "How's everything going today?"  

            "Fine.  Nothing exciting."  She kept watching the group watching the TV, then smacked her forehead.  "Oh, that's right!  The Cubs are playing the Red Sox tonight.  It's the 7th game of the World Series."  

            "Oh, right.  I forgot." he responded, distractedly.  He looked down at his charts, remembering what he was about to do.  "Hey, can you do a consult for me?"

            "Sure, what's it about?"

            "Patient says he hasn't slept in 9 days.  He keeps trying to count sheep but he says they're trying to kill him now.  I'm thinking you can do more with him than I can."  He smiled, and handed over the chart.

            "I'll see what I can do."  She started to walk away, then turned back.  "And Carter, you might want to try and at least pretend you're interested in the game.  Otherwise, people are going to start thinking you're one of the 'Queer Eye' guys."  She laughed, and walked away.

            "Ha ha, very funny," he yelled after her.  

            "End of the 6th inning, and the Cubs are still up a run.  It's looking good, everyone!"  Frank announced, slapping Morris five.  

            "I don't know, I think the Sox will still pull it off.  There can't be a curse of the Bambino without the Yankees involved, can there?"  Susan commented.  She walked over to Carter, her attention finally off the game.  "What do you need, Carter?"  

            "Oh, so now you want to know."  He smirked at her.  "I thought I was going to have to put on hot pink spandex to get someone's attention."

            Susan scrunched up her face.  "Uh, Carter, why don't you leave the spandex up to Abby?  I'm not sure it would really suit you."  She tapped him on the shoulder with the chart in her hand, and started to walk away.  

            "Hey, wait; can you take this scalp lac for me?  It'll be really fast, I promise."

            "No way, Carter; I'm off in a half hour, and you know how this stuff goes.  You tell me it'll be fast, and then I'll be here an extra 3 hours.  I have to get home to my child and my husband, who I'm sure has had enough of being alone with her."  She turned and walked away.  

            Carter looked around, noticing that everyone had abandoned him.  He sighed and started to walk to curtain 2 and his patient with a scalp laceration, and as he walked he mumbled to himself.  "This night's going to be crazy, whether the Cubs win or lose…"

                                    ************************************                                    

            "Trauma coming in!"  Sam yelled out to Carter as he walked down the hall.  She started to walk towards him and met him at the exit.  "Apparently a bar fight went wrong.  Some guys got excited during the eighth inning when Ramirez hit a home run and scored 3 runs for the Sox.  Cubs are down 8-6 now."

            "Well, let's just take care of the patients and forget about the game."  The ambulance pulled up.  The paramedics opened the door and started giving the pertinent information about the patient.

            "…some joker went at this guy with a broken beer bottle.  He's cut up pretty good but I don't think they hit any major arteries.  Missed his jugular, anyway."

            "Okay, let's go!"  Carter yelled as they all moved into the hospital.  "Is this the only one?" he asked, as they were rolling.

            "Yeah, for now anyway.  The game's in the ninth now, so pretty soon you'll have quite a few customers, I'm sure.  Win or lose." 

"Thanks.  We've got it from here." 

                        ************************************

"I thought it'd be better when I got older."  The patient, a 21-year-old girl, said to Abby.  "I just never knew that all this relationship stuff could be still be so hard, even after high school."  She blew her nose and wiped her tears from her cheeks.

"I know that dating and relationships can be very confusing, and sometimes overwhelming.  It can be hard to tell what someone else wants or needs, and that causes stress."  Abby cleared her throat.  "But let me tell you that it's best just to be honest with the person, letting them know how what they do makes you feel.  You can't expect them to know without you telling them."  She touched the girl's hand.  "Do you understand?"

The girl looked up at Abby, obviously appreciating the compassion being shown to her.  "I do."

"And if he can't understand that he's hurting you, then you need to get out of the relationship.  You deserve better than what he is giving you."  She smiled at the girl.

"Thank you, Dr. Lockhart."  The girl stood up, shook Abby's hand, and left the office.  As the girl left, a nurse stepped into Abby's office.

"Dr. Lockhart, they need you in the ER."

"Again?  I know this baseball game is intense, but does it have to bring all the crazies into the hospital in one night?"  The nurse shrugged, and Abby followed her out of the room.

                        ************************************

"Hey.  Someone called for a Psych consult?"  Abby walked up to the Admit desk in the ER for what seemed like the millionth time that night.  The game had certainly caused a lot of trouble throughout the city, especially after the Red Sox won.  The many Cubs fans were disheartened after seeing their team make it to the Series after so many years and then lose, and the few Sox fans were completely ecstatic after seeing their team win after 86 years of the Curse.  Abby couldn't care less about the game, but she was concerned about her friends in the ER who were struggling through all the patients.  She knew that Carter had not been able to leave as scheduled two hours ago, and would probably be here all night.  That was fine with her for now, since she was scheduled overnight anyway, but she suspected that he wouldn't be in the best of moods at the end of it.

"Yeah, that was me," the man she loved responded.  She stopped in front of the desk where he was standing, picking over charts.

"You just want me to work as hard as you, don't you?" She smiled at him.  "You resent me for not working down here, so you call me down here every chance you get with all the little slightly crazy people who come in here."

"You got me!  You're so smart."  He turned to look at her, after picking out a few charts.

"Has it gotten any better?"  She reached up and wiped a smudge from his cheek with her thumb.  He grabbed her hand and kissed her palm as she did this.  This made her smile, as it always did.

"Yeah, it has a little," he said quietly.  "It'll be much better when I can go home and fall into bed with my beautiful girlfriend, though."

"You're a suck up," she quipped.

"And you're bootylicious," he responded fondly, patting her butt.

"What?  Who says that anymore?  And when has it ever been okay for a middle-aged white doctor to say it?"  She removed his hand from her butt, but held it in her own.

"What do you mean?  That word is absolutely still hip to say."

"No, Carter, I'm afraid that word went out not long after Mulder left the X-Files."  She poked him in the stomach as she said this.  "Now, tell me about this patient."

"All right, fine. I—"

"Carter, your ankle patient's complaining of pain," Chuny said, interrupting his thought.  She realized, though, that she had been rude, and apologized.  "I'm sorry.  I didn't realize you two were talking."

"It's okay, Chuny, it was just about a patient, " Abby replied.

"Um, she's maxed out on meds, so rewrap it and get some fresh ice on it."  Chuny nodded and walked away to look after the patient.  "So, as I was saying…I think the patient is possibly both OCD and massively delusional.  She will only drink out of Dasani water bottles; she says all other containers are evil, and that God told her to refuse them.  She also seems to sometimes believe that she is Persephone, and that she needs to return to the underworld."  He handed the chart to Abby.  "What do you think?"  

            Abby looked at the chart.  "I think that you're probably right about the delusion, but I'll have to sit down and talk to her, obviously."  She looked up at Carter.  "I'm off at 6.  Do you want to catch breakfast together?"

            "Absolutely.  I'm sure they'll still need me, and if not I'll just stay."  He kissed her lightly on the lips.  

            "Okay, but don't stay if they let you leave and you're tired.  Promise?"

            "I promise."

            "I'm going to go see this patient then.  I'll talk to you later."  As she started to walk away, he patted her butt again, eliciting a slight hop from her.  She turned and glared at him.  "Ooh, you're going to get it later, buster…"

            "That's what I'm hoping for," he replied, and then winked.  "Maybe we could try somewhere new this time?"

            "Carter, I already told you, no, not on the kitchen table!" she responded, laughing out loud.

            "I meant breakfast," he replied, stifling a laugh, noting the odd looks her words had elicited from those around them.  "But okay, it's good to know where you stand on that issue…"  He broke off, laughing with her.

            "Yeah, I knew you meant breakfast, I was just—you know, I—oh, never mind, I have patients!"  She finished, exasperated, and turned into her patient's room.

                                    ************************************

            "It's 6 a.m.; do you know where your girlfriend is?"  Abby had walked up behind Carter, placing her hands over his eyes.  He took them in his own hands, turned to face her, and kissed her on the lips.  

            "Yeah, I have a slight idea."  He put his arms around her, hugging her.  

            "You ready to leave?"  She said, into his chest.

            "Almost.  I have one more patient to discharge and then I can go."

            "What is it?"

            "A hand lac.  Lady with 14 dogs got bit by one of her Pugs.  Of all her dogs, who would've thought it would be that one?"  He released his hold on her, and picked the chart up off the counter.  "It should only take me 15 minutes, okay?"

            "That's fine.  I'm going to go sit down in the break room.  You can meet me in there."  She reached behind him and patted his butt.  "Mr. Bootylicious."

            "Oh, so I see…It's okay for you to say it, but not me?  That's completely unf—" He was cut off by Abby kissing him, her hands reaching down and grabbing his butt.  She released him after a few seconds, and stepped away.  

            "It's completely fair, because you love me.  Right?"

            "You're right.  I do love you.  So call me whatever you want."  He cleared his throat, trying to regain composure.  "I'm just going to discharge this patient, and then maybe we'll skip breakfast."

            "Sounds great," she replied, and walked into the break room, swaying her hips with every step, just to entice him.        


End file.
